


Eulogy

by goldenbilly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, they cried idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 21:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenbilly/pseuds/goldenbilly
Summary: "How can I be good if it hurts so much." He clutches at his chest, blunt nails pressing into the fragile scars there. "How can I be innocent if all I feel is guilt? It's stuck in my chest and I can't get it out, Steve, it hurts so fuckingbad." He's yelling at Steve, begging for answers. Begging for the pain to end.





	Eulogy

Billy's sitting on the couch with his knees tucked in to his chest, clutching a cigarette between shaking fingers. Steve stands frozen in the doorway, watching the boy he loves cry for the first time. His cheeks are red and ruddy, he's been here for a while. When he catches sight of Steve he starts, sob catching in his throat before ripping out, louder. The tears don't stop, rivers carving down his face and neck, eyes shiny and swollen.

Steve clambers over to the couch, throwing his arms around the trembling form. "Baby, baby, what's wrong?"

Billy can't calm down but he's trying so hard, drawing in shuddering breaths and whining on the exhale. He can't begin to explain his feelings if he can barely process them himself, but he tries.

"I'm- I'm no good," He chokes out in-between sobs. The tears are still pouring down, wetting Steve's shirt as Billy turns to press his face into his shoulder.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Steve pets his boyfriend's head, trying desperately to understand the problem.

"I-I fucking _killed_ them, Steve. Innocent people. I'm not a good fucking _person_." It takes him so long to say, words spat out between harsh gasps and pained whimpers.

He takes Billy's face between his hands, thumbs wiping tears from under his eyes. "Baby, _angel_. Look at me. It's not your fault. It wasn't you, Billy. There was _nothing_ you could do, nothing any of us could do. Do you understand? You didn't do anything wrong."

Billy jerks his head away from Steve, refusing to look any longer. There's a ripping feeling from somewhere in his chest and he panics, looking down to see if his wounds had opened. Everything is still closed up, and he figures it must be only the pain of guilt.

"You don't fucking _understand_. The Byers kid got possessed just the same, and he- he didn't start killing all his friends, did he?" Billy's voice is raised now, close to yelling, and he's rocking back and forth on the couch. "He's not a fucking psychopath like me, I- I'm just _evil_. I didn't even fight it!" Steve stares, wide-eyed, as Billy falls apart in front of him. He wants to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but the moment his fingers touch Billy's bare shoulder, the boy flinches away from him.

"Billy, that_ thing_. It's powerful, you know that. Will barely got away from it with his life. So did _you_." Scenes from that night invade Steve's head. Billy falling to the ground, speared through, entire torso riddled with holes. Max's screaming, El's crying. The pool of blood, spreading quicker and quicker as everyone stares, shell-shocked. The soldiers and paramedics rushing in, scooping up the teenager from the mall floor and heaving him to an ambulance, dripping red the whole way there. Max still screaming. Once they had taken Billy, no one had moved, frozen in place as they stared at the technicolor lights reflecting off the puddle he left. "You _did_ fight it. You fought it and _won._ You were willing to sacrifice yourself for everyone, for your sister, for El. Evil people don't do that. You're a good person, Billy."

Billy's still ugly crying, hearing Steve's words and his head supplies him with opposites: _evil bad murderer scum you shouldn't be alive if they're dead you don't deserve to live_. He has no idea what to believe, he wants so badly to believe his boyfriend, wants so badly to be innocent. But do innocent people feel this much pain? This much _guilt_? _I should've died instead_.

He can't accept comfort. He doesn't deserve it. Hasn't deserved it his whole life and definitely doesn't now.

"How can I be good if it hurts so much." He clutches at his chest, blunt nails pressing into the fragile scars there. "How can I be innocent if all I feel is guilt? It's stuck in my chest and I can't get it out, Steve, it hurts so fucking _bad_." He's yelling at Steve, begging for answers. Begging for the pain to end.

Steve's eyes are full of tears now too, kneeling on the floor in front of the blonde. His voice is broken when he responds "I'm sorry."

Confusion fills Billy's eyes, along with fire. "What?"

Steve stands and places himself next to his boyfriend on the couch, leaning over him and wrapping him in his arms. Billy protests, muttering "Get the fuck off of me," and struggling for a few seconds. After a moment the boy goes limp, relaxing under Steve's weight and putting his energy into another round off full-body sobs. Steve threads his hand into Billy's hair again, putting his mouth next to his ear as he holds him close.

"I'm so sorry you're in pain. It hurts me to see you like this, God, I wish you didn't have to go through this. I wish all your hurt faded away and you could be fucking _happy_. I wish your car hadn't been hit that night, and I wish the Russians hadn't opened that goddamn gate. I wish it happened somewhere other than Hawkins, away from you, so you'd never get hurt. But I'm so glad you're here now, with me. You made it, Billy. You _survived_. You're so fucking strong and you saved us. Everyone is so thankful. But I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that it still hurts even after your scars healed. I wish I could put a band-aid on it, but it might not go away. It might not go away for awhile. And I'm so- I'm so _sorry_, Billy."

Steve's bawling now, and Billy's gone silent, staring up at his face with red-rimmed baby blues. "Steve," Billy croaks, voice wrecked. Steve only sniffles in response. "I love you." He presses his lips to the brunette's temple. "Thank you."

Steve laughs through a sob and smiles shakily, blinking his tears away. "I love you." Billy pulls him closer, with arms smaller than they were in July, and Steve is careful not to put too much pressure or friction on Billy's bare chest. He lays at Billy's side, head resting on his shoulder, one arm reaching around underneath him to play with the ringlets at the side of his face. His hair was just beginning to grow back to its previous length, after months of it being shorter than Steve's.

Steve cranes his neck to place a kiss under Billy's ear, smiling when Billy kisses his forehead back. He closes his eyes and listens to their breathing, and Billy's heartbeat slowing as he falls asleep. He falls asleep hoping Billy's chest will feel even a little better tomorrow.

He dreams about the day when they've moved far away from here, and they don't have to worry about mindflayers and meat monsters and demodogs tearing apart their loved ones. When their scars have healed. When they can finally, _finally_ breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> lol I had no beta and wrote this in a flurry of emotion at midnight. as you can see, it's been a month and i am still very, very not over it.


End file.
